


Thinking Too Much

by coraxes



Series: I Slap Him As Hard As I Can [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Grog does not know or care what he is, M/M, Post-Canon, past Vaxleth, side Perc'ahlia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10260908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coraxes/pseuds/coraxes
Summary: Romance and love and sex are all tangled up for him--he knows people who can do casual sex, but he’s never been that way.  Vax is an all-or-nothing guy.But…maybe he can change that.  He can sleep with someone who he knows he loves.  He doesn’t have to make a thing of it.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This will be two (maybe three?) parts. I'm posting it now because I'm about to go on a trip and I wanted it to be up already. I had the idea of Vax attempting to be romantic for Grog because Vax is a giant sap at heart, and then it morphed into this weird post-canon thing.
> 
> Takes place about two years post-canon, on the assumption that Taryon was a temporary party member who left after too long. If anything happens after ep 89 that debunks this I am ignoring it.
> 
> I'm dedicating this to "Talk Too Much" by COIN, which inspired the mood of this fic if nothing else.

Looking back, Vax supposed he couldn’t be too surprised.  He had always been turned on by the ability to kick his ass, and he had always been preoccupied with Grog--what Grog was feeling, what he was feeling about _Vax._ And he hadn’t seen anyone since he and Keyleth ended things over a year before, so of course he was lonely.  It made sense that he would seek someone out.

The only surprising thing about the whole affair was that Grog started it.

\--

“Oi, big guy.  Quit squirming,” says Vax.  He presses his hands to the nasty rotted patch of skin along Grog’s ribs.  Grog shakes with leftover adrenaline from his last rage. 

They’re both covered with grime and rot thanks to the necromancer they just took down, one of the Raven Queen’s targets.  The necromancer’s old manor was full of zombies that took forever to plow through, but the woman herself went down in a few hits--not before getting a good one on Grog, though. 

“It _itches,_ ” Grog grumbles, but takes a deep breath and holds still.  Golden light pours from Vax’s hands, and smooth grey skin replaces the rot. 

For some reason--perhaps because he is the last member of Vox Machina to have no other obligations to family, people, or religious order--Grog has taken to coming along with Vax on his quests for the Raven Queen.  It works out.  They spend most of their time in Whitestone anyway, Vax to be with Vex and Grog to be with Pike, so if Vax ever wants backup Grog is right there.  Vax will bitch sometimes about having to wait for Grog instead of being able to fly, or Grog setting off traps that Vax could have disarmed, but they both know he doesn’t mean it; Grog has saved his life a dozen times over. 

After a few moments, Grog’s side is healed.  Vax pulls his hands away and wipes them on his trousers; he’ll never get used to the feel of dead flesh, no matter how many necromancers he fights.  “You alright, then?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good, I’m out of Goddess-juice,” Vax says.  A cut on his cheekbone still oozes a bit of blood, but that’s nothing, really.  He backs away from Grog and looks around the room with a critical eye.  “See anything worth nicking?”

An hour and a thousand gold pieces later, they torch the manor--no sense leaving it for someone else to experiment in--and walk the few miles back to their campsite, set up by a stream.  Vax lets the wings on his armor sprout as he approaches, giving his feet a break--and just as Grog nears the stream, he grabs the goliath by his brawny shoulders and shoves him in.

“You mother _fucker,_ ” Grog shouts whenever he surfaces.  Vax hovers above him, too busy laughing to avoid Grog’s lunge--he’d forgotten that the man could _jump_.  Grog pins his arms to his sides and dunks him, and after that, it’s war _._

Finally they’re both too goddamn tired to bother fucking with each other anymore.  They both strip and Vax has a _moment_ , just looking at him--fuck, he’s gotten used to travelling around the continent with a load of very attractive people.  He’s even gotten used to seeing them naked, because Grog, Scanlan, and Pike were never very concerned with modesty.  That doesn’t mean he’s _immune._

“What?” Grog asks, and Vax realizes he’s been staring with his hands on his undone belt. 

Vax considers flirting, but settles with, “Fuck off.”  In answer, Grog splashes him.

He thinks that’s the end of it until a few minutes later when Grog says, “Hey, so, I was thinking.”

“Yeah?”  He isn’t looking at Grog, so he doesn’t have any warning before the goliath grabs Vax by the chin and kisses him.

It’s--well, awkward, Vax too surprised to really _do_ anything but note that he’d forgotten what it felt like to kiss someone with a beard, and also Grog is really _big_ \--

He jerks backward and sees that Grog is _blushing._

What the _fuck._

“I didn’t know you liked men,” says Vax, which is true, but really the least surprising thing.

Vax had thought about Grog that way, of course, though _fantasized_ might be the better word.  But on the occasions where he _had_ thought about it, Vax had just saved Grog’s life, or they were both drunk and wandering the hallways, and it was always Vax who made the first move.  Now they have none of the excuses Vax assumed they’d need.  There is no alcohol or adrenaline to egg them on.  Just them horsing around the way they’d done a thousand times before.

Grog shrugs.  “I liked Kerrek.  I like _you_.”

The simple sentence, like many of the things Grog says, hits Vax in the chest like a physical blow. 

“Alright then,” says Vax, mouth dry, and grins.  “Show me what you’ve got.”

He kisses Grog then, propping himself up on the bank to try and make up their truly ridiculous height difference.  Grog knows what he’s doing--perhaps because he’s friends with Scanlan, Vax thought he must be mostly talk, but he quickly figures out the tongue thing Vax likes.

Still the angle’s awkward, and it must be for Grog too, because after a minute he wraps an arm around Vax’s thighs and just.  Picks him up.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Vax says.  He was already at half-mast, and now his dick twitches to attention against his stomach. 

Grog gives a self-satisfied smirk.  “I knew you liked the muscles.”

“I haven’t been subtle, no,” says Vax, and grinds down. 

Their fooling around doesn’t last long--Grog jerks Vax off with quick, sure strokes, and Vax attempts to give a blowjob even though he can barely fit his mouth around Grog’s dick.  It’s not mind-blowing but it’s _comfortable,_ the way they shit-talk each other through the whole thing.  He’s heard of having fun in bed but it’s never been like this, both of them laughing at themselves and each other.

Afterward they pull their clothes back on, and Vax asks, “Is this supposed to be a one-time deal, or what?”

He doesn’t _want_ it to be.  But he’s never known Grog to want anything like a serious relationship. 

“I dunno.  It was fun, right?” Grog looks at Vax from the corner of his eye.  “We could do it again.”

“Yeah,” says Vax slowly.

He doesn’t know if he can just do _fun._ Romance and love and sex are all tangled up for him--he knows people who can do casual sex, but he’s never been that way.  Vax is an all-or-nothing guy. 

But…that was one of the things Keyleth said, when they ended things, that he was so _intense_ so quickly.

Maybe he can change that.  He can sleep with someone who he knows he loves ( _like a brother_? his mind suggests, and Vax quickly discards _that_ phrasing).  He doesn’t have to make a thing of it.

“Yeah,” says Vax, more firmly this time.  “We could.”

 --

They take their time returning to Whitestone.  It’s only a few days’ journey, but they make the most of it, sleeping late and finding inns most nights.

(“We have to _walk_ tomorrow,” Vax says on the first.  “You are _not_ putting that thing in me.”

Grog bares his teeth.  “You saying you can’t handle it?”

The next morning, Vax asks, “If I use divine healing on my ass, am I going to hell?”  Grog’s satisfied chuckle vibrates through Vax’s body where they’re pressed together.)

The last night of their journey, Vax stretches out on the bed and stares at the ceiling.  Finger-shaped bruises ring his hips and Grog has a bite mark along his shoulder, something Vax never realized he was into until recently.  Apparently when he forgets to be gentle and romantic with someone, he likes leaving marks. 

“So, are we going to tell people about this?” Vax asks, watching Grog from the corner of his eye.

Grog frowns.  “Who would want to know?”  He considers.  “I guess maybe Scanlan.”

“ _Scanlan_?”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” says Grog, as if this should be obvious.  “We’re _buddies._ ”

“What, like, butt buddies?”

Grog’s eyes widen.  “No!  Just, buddies.  We _talk_.”

“You _did_ like to go to whorehouses together…”

Grog pokes him, right on a bruise.  Vax suppresses a wince and grins innocently at him.  “I talked to Scanlan about you.”

Vax blinks.  “Oh.”  He’d assumed that this--whatever it was--was a spur-of-the-moment decision.  That Grog was interested enough to _talk_ about it...

“Yeah, he saw me looking at your ass.”

That makes sense. 

What had he been meaning to say?

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” Vax says.  “I know you might not care, but when me and Keyleth blew up it was…difficult.  I know we’re not the same,” he adds hurriedly, at Grog’s confused look.

“Well, yeah,” says Grog.  “It’s you and me, not you and Keyleth.”

Vax blinks at him.  Sometimes he gets the feeling that Grog is very smart, and is in fact saying something so intelligent that no one else can understand it.  “R _iiiight._ What I’m saying is, maybe we should keep this quiet for a bit?  Just so we don’t…make a stir, if it goes badly.” 

They are all alright now, but he can’t help but feel that Vox Machina’s slow dissolution had started with his and Keyleth’s breakup, the tension that created in the group.  Vex sided with Vax and Percy with Keyleth, and Pike and Scanlan and Grog were all stuck not _wanting_ to take sides but getting cried upon _anyway_ \--it was a bit of a mess.

He doesn’t want to go through that again if whatever he and Grog are doing doesn’t work out.  They’re getting along now, but someday one of them will give the other too much shit and it’ll come to a head.

Grog considers for a minute.  “Yeah, sure.”  He pokes at his bite mark.  “I’ll just say a zombie got me.”

Vax reaches out a hand, light glowing from his palm.  “I can…”

“Nah, leave it,” Grog says.  He points at Vax’s bruises.  “Those too.”

Vax laughs.  “You won’t even be able to see them.”

“I’ll still know they’re there,” says Grog, and pokes one, hard enough to make Vax flinch.  He grins.  “I know your weaknesses, see?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vax says.  He rolls over into Grog’s side and slings an arm around his waist.  “Is that that this is?  You trying to find out my weaknesses, big guy?”

Grog snorts and leaves it at that.

\--

Whitestone is, as always, cold as shit.  It’s early spring everywhere else, but Whitestone still holds on to the remnants of winter snow.  After more than a year of near-permanent residence, Vax would have thought he’d be used to the weather--but apparently not.

Trinket greets them first, nearly tackling Vax and then Grog in his enthusiasm.  Grog holds on to the bear for longer than necessary.

“A bit chilly, isn’t it?” says Vax.

“My nipples could fuckin’ cut glass right now,” Grog says, and Vax is still laughing when Vex meets them.

She throws her arms around his neck, and Vax hugs her hard enough to lift her off her feet.  “I’m glad you’re home,” Vex says, and Vax has to force a smile because--well, Whitestone might be her home, and Vax’s home is always going to be with Vex, but he’s here because she is and not because he particularly cares for the place.

“It’s good to see you again,” he says with feeling.  They’re separated often lately.  It’s been getting easier, but he wishes it wouldn’t.  No matter how much life seems to disagree, he and Vex belong together.

She pulls from his grip and smiles at Grog.  “I’m glad you’re home too.  I was actually just about to eat dinner, if you want to join me--Percy’s in his workshop, he’ll probably not emerge until morning.”

The three of them wind up in one of Vex’s rooms (she has _rooms_ in a _castle;_ it will never stop amazing Vax, how much his sister has now), eating a lot of chicken and ale for nostalgia’s sake.  They patched things up with Scanlan, but he never formally rejoined Vox Machina after that argument, so it’s been some time since anyone’s used the mansion. 

Vax and Grog get into a spat about who killed the most zombies, and Vex keeps interjecting with comments designed to egg them on (“even if you cut its head off, was it really _gone_ before Vax set it on fire?”).  Vex tells them about the trade agreement she’s trying to oversee (Vex: “Wildmount is _not_ going to cheat us this time--” Grog: “I could get on ‘em.  You know I’m good at haggling.”  Vex: “Thank you, darling, but I can handle this.”).

It’s lovely, and only a little bit awkward when Vax starts to tell about Grog’s face when he dunked him in the stream.  And then he remembers what came _after_ that and has to stop talking. 

He’d almost forgotten why it would probably be a bad idea to advertise that.

It’s odd how _normal_ it all feels.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut and ignores the puzzled look Vex sends his way. 

They all drink too much ale, and Vax and Grog stagger down the hall to the wing reserved for Vox Machina.  Well, Vax staggers.  Grog is mostly upright.  Bloody goliath tolerance.

“Nah, I just drink a lot,” says Grog, so Vax figures he must’ve said the last thing out loud. 

Vax pauses at his doorframe.  “You wanna come in?”  He’s seeing double, which is maybe _not_ great, but--well, this is their thing now, isn’t it?

Grog frowns, then shakes his head.  “You’re gonna pass out.”

“Am _not,_ ” says Vax, putting a hand to his chest, but the movement unbalances him somehow and he staggers, clutching at the doorframe.

Grog snickers.  “I’ll blow you in the morning if you aren’t real hungover,” he says, and walks away.

Vax flips him off.  He passes out on his bed thirty seconds later.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax adjusts. Grog gets revenge. Vox Machina returns home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part will wrap things up, I promise.

Months drag past.  Vax is _bored_ in a way he hasn’t been since he lived in Syngorn; there is nothing for him to do in Whitestone, not really, so he spends his days following around Vex or someone with an _actual_ job and waiting for another quest from the Raven Queen.  He can’t go anywhere else, because Vex is here, but Percy hardly needs a professional thief/paladin in his employ. 

Not that Vax truly wants to work for Percy, anyway.  He loves him, but if Percy ever seriously turns his poncey commanding voice on Vax he might find his underpants hanging from the battlements.

What else is he supposed to do, though?  He’s never had a _real_ job outside of Vox Machina, besides stealing.  Never wanted one, either--what’s he supposed to do, run a shop?

“Does it ever bother you?” Vax asks Grog once, when they’re in one of Whitestone’s better taverns.  The owner long ago stopped giving them free drinks.  “I mean, we saved Emon.  And now we’re not doing _anything_.”

Grog frowns and looks at his mug.  “I mean, yeah.  That’s why I go along with you so much.  I miss killing shit.”

“Here I thought you just wanted some quality time with me,” Vax says dryly.

Grog shrugs.  “Ain’t complaining about that, either.”  He takes a swig of ale.  “You could go work for a real temple, become a priest or somethin’.”

Vax makes a face just thinking about it, and Grog snickers.  He’s thought about _that,_ too, but even though he serves the Raven Queen, he doesn’t want to be part of her creepy little clergy.  He slumps back in his seat.  “I just wish it could be like old times.   All of us kicking ass together.”

“You know what they say,” says Grog sagely.  “If you love somethin’, let it go.”

Vax grins despite himself.  “That’s not what that means.”

“Fuck off,” says Grog.  Then he shoves his mostly-full tankard at him.  “Drink up, you’re getting all broody.”

Vax does. 

He doesn’t remember the rest of the night, but apparently he drank three more tankards and two shots of dwarven whiskey; Grog carried him back to Whitestone Castle, where he had a crying fit on Percy.  Kaylie writes a song about it.

The next time Vax starts getting nostalgic, they’re at dinner in Whitestone’s great hall.  The entire council is eating together along with some visiting nobility (something about a trade agreement--hell if Vax knows), but he, Vex, Percy, Grog, and Pike are sitting at the corner of one large table.

Vax isn’t sure what he does that sets Grog off; all he knows is that one moment they are talking, and then Grog is picking him up and slinging him around his shoulders.

“What are you _doing,_ ” Vax squawks as Grog rises from the table.  He kicks out and--

“ _Ouch!_ ”

“Sorry, Pike!”

“Make way,” booms Grog, extracting himself from the long bench.  “Nothin’ to see here, just gotta kick this one’s ass.”

“ _What the fuck,_ ” Vax hisses.  He aims more carefully this time and slams his elbow into Grog’s solar plexus.  The goliath swears but doesn’t slow down as he makes his way through the hall to the giant double doors.  Behind them, he can hear Vex’s snickering.

“What _do_ you plan to do with my brother?” she asks, not sounding concerned at all.  Vax turns to glare at her, and she’s following behind, looking curious, the traitor.

“You’re missing the old days, right?  Used to be you’d get bored and then you’d run ahead and fight someone,” says Grog, sounding oddly like he was talking to a small child.  “Well, ain’t no one worth fighting around here but me.  So let’s go.”

“What the fuck,” says Vax again.  Because really, it wasn’t like he was even that upset.  He tries to get a better read on the goliath, twisting so he can actually look at the man; but all he can find in Grog’s face is a steely sort of determination.

By the time Grog reaches the courtyard and dumps him on the ground, they’ve acquired several trailing spectators, and Vax is pissed enough that he’s ready to fight Grog no matter how stupid the original idea was.

They’re mostly unarmed (Vax has a knife in his belt and another in his boot, but that’s just habit, and he’s not going to stab his friend) and neither are armored, so it isn’t _quite_ like old times.

Still, they fight like they used to, fast and brutal.  Vax elbows a pressure point, Grog punches him in the nose.  Vax trips Grog and kicks him in the ribs, Grog grabs Vax’s ankle and yanks him down too.  Vax strikes at Grog’s windpipe, Grog catches his wrist and _twists_ until he nearly breaks Vax’s arm.  Vax escapes the grip and--

Well, Grog’s straddling him and they’re both turned on, so maybe it’s not _exactly_ how they used to fight.  The goliath pants and gives Vax a triumphant, predatory grin, and Vax finds his own face mimicking the expression despite himself.

“Geroff me,” Vax says, blood dribbling from his nose, dust and hair sticking to his face with sweat.  “You’ve made your point, big guy, I’m feelin’ better.”

“I know,” Grog says, smug.  He stands and offers Vax a hand up, which Vax ignores.

It’s well after midnight when Vax looks over at the sleeping goliath and remembers that, before Grog had decided he was getting too moody, he was talking about _Keyleth--_ her ass-kicking abilities in fire elemental form.

Had Grog been _jealous_?  And if so, what the fuck exactly is Vax supposed to do about it?

Does Grog even get jealous?  Vax hasn’t seen him in anything resembling a romantic relationship--if this can be called romance.  He doesn’t think it can.  There have been no flowers, no beautiful speeches or heartfelt declarations.  Sure, he loves the man, they spend most of their time together, Vax seeks Grog out whenever he has nothing to do--

 Point is: Vax doesn’t know what Grog is like when he’s with someone, so he has no idea if the man is prone to jealousy or not.  He certainly hadn’t been jealous of his friends.  And, really, Vax is assuming an awful lot from one interruption--perhaps Grog really had just been worried about Vax having another drunken cry.

He stares at Grog for another long moment.  If it happens again, Vax decides, he’ll worry about it.  For now, he lays on his back, his head leaning against the goliath’s shoulder, and goes to sleep.

\--

Vex gets suspicious.  It was only a matter of time, Vax thinks; if she hadn’t been so busy--and so determined to not notice anything about his sex life--she probably would have figured it out much sooner. 

“You’d tell me if you were seeing someone, right?” she asks him one day with deceptive casualness as they walk through Whitestone’s marketplace. 

“Of course,” says Vax automatically, then, “define ‘seeing someone’.”

Vex turns her shrewd gaze on him.  He would never, ever tell her this, but Syldor used to look at Vax the same way whenever he suspected his son of some wrongdoing.  “So you _are_ seeing someone.”

He considers the merits of telling her everything, and then the merits of telling her _part_ of everything; and settles on what seems like the most honest answer.  “I’m fucking someone, actually.”

Her nose wrinkles. 

“You want the gory details?” Vax presses.  He reaches for the collar of his shirt.  “Last night, he--”

“No!”  Vex’s hands come up as if to physically halt his sentence, and she squeezes her eyes shut.  “No, no, no, and if you’re going to be disgusting, brother, I will leave.”

Vax grins.  She’s so _easy._ “I’m glad you take such an interest in my life, Vex’ahlia,” he says.

They continue walking down Whitestone’s main road, Vex eyeing a few open market stalls as they pass, and after a few minutes she says, “You will tell me when it gets serious?”

“ _When_?”

Vex rolls her eyes.  “I’ve never known you to be…involved…with someone you weren’t at least half in love with.”

Vax scoffs.  “Maybe I have been and didn’t tell you about it.”

Vex just looks at him until Vax, blushing furiously, turns and walks away.

\--

He really, really should have seen it coming.  He should not have assumed that Grog’s revenge for the lost half of his beard ended with the mutilation of Vax’s left nut (he _swears_ it still doesn’t look the same; Grog laughs every time he sees it). 

But dammit, he trusts--no, _trusted_ the asshole; they’d spent enough nights together over the last three months, on the road and off, that Vax had gotten used to his presence in bed.  So one night he goes to sleep in Whitestone Castle with Grog next to him, and wakes up alone. 

When he rolls out of bed he knows something feels wrong _,_ but he doesn’t realize quite what that is until he catches his reflection in the wardrobe mirror.  Vax does a double-take, stares as if it will make his reflection change.

His hair has been cut off.  Most of it is right around his ears, but some is a bit longer and around the back it’s been cut near his neck.  It looks, in other words, like someone grabbed a handful and chopped it off with a knife. 

Vax dresses quickly and then stomps through the castle until he finds Grog, shoveling bacon into his mouth.

“You fucking _shithead_ \--”

“What?” says Grog, all wide-eyed innocence, but even as he says the word he starts to giggle.  Not his usual menacing chuckle, but a full-blown giggling fit. 

“I’m gonna get you back,” Vax promises.  He’s not sure _how,_ but he’s _sure._ He rakes a hand through his newly-short hair--it feels _wrong,_ he hasn’t had it this short in _years--_ and tries to think of a suitable revenge.  And then, whining a little: “I already let you put a dent in my nads, Grog, you didn’t have to do _this._ ”

A servant pauses from clearing up the dishes to do a double take.  Vax glares at him, and he hastily retreats.

Grog shakes his head, still laughing.  “I just wanted to fuck with you.”

Vax glares at him once more and then stomps away to find Vex.  She’s out in the courtyard with Trinket, and when she sees him she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. 

“Traitor,” Vax says, crossing his arms.

Vex ruffles his hair the way he used to do to her; she’d _hated_ it, and once she socked him in the arm hard enough to hurt both his arm and her hand.  After that, he’d stopped.  “What happened?  Got in a fight with your barber?”

“Grog,” Vax sighs instead, glaring at the sky. 

Vex pauses, hand still on his head, and looks at him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed.  He knows that look--she’s putting the pieces together.

“Can you fix it?” he asks before she gets the chance.

“Of course, dear,” says Vex.  “Let me get some scissors.”

Vax makes a surprised sound--they’ve been each other’s barbers since they were small, and most of it was done with a hunting knife.  “Nobility’s getting to you, sister.”

She flips him off, and they go to look for scissors.

Once Vex has him pinned--at the corner of a bathroom counter, scissors at his head--she asks, “So, Grog’s the man you’ve been seeing?”

Vax starts, and hisses as the point of the scissors jabs into his temple.  “How’d you know?”

“I guessed.  You two have been together a lot lately, and he’s not stealthy enough to sneak into your room and do this.”  She wrinkles her nose.  “ _There’s_ a thought I didn’t want to have.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to see you flash your tits at him either,” says Vax dryly.

Vex concedes the point, and finishes fixing his hair into a more normal short cut.  It’s going to take _months_ to grow out to his preferred length.

That fucking _asshole._

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he tells Grog later.

Grog shrugs.  “So are you.”

Vax can’t argue with that, so he just says, “I’m topping,” instead.

\--

Weeks pass.  Vax handles another necromancer for the Raven Queen, and then he, Vex, and Scanlan venture out one day to take out a squad of bandits that have been threatening caravans along one of Whitestone’s leading routes.  He and Grog fight a few more times, but the second and third are just because he’s jonesing for something to do.

He’s--well, he still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it feels like adjusting.

Near the beginning of fall, he drops into the Temple of Sarenrae to see Pike.  While she still occasionally travels, even went back to her old pirate friends, she generally stays in Whitestone as well.  When Pike sees him, she gives a smile just a touch too enthusiastic to be truly casual and eyes his limp (a bandit arrow in his thigh a few days before--Scanlan healed it, but it still feels off).

He makes a show of looking up before he enters.  “I’m still allowed in here, right?” Vax calls to the sky, and steps over the threshold.  “Seems fine,” he informs Pike.

She smiles at him.  “You know Sarenrae accepts all comers.”

“I don’t know how any of this champion bullshit works,” Vax says.  He’s grinning but it’s not a joke at all, and perhaps Pike can sense that, because she grabs his hand and leads him to a nearby bench.

“So, I was thinking,” she says.

Vax stops in his tracks, a full-body _halt;_ Pike looks up at him, confused.  He shakes his head, gives her a weak grin.  “It’s nothing.”

It’s the exact same inflection that Grog used, right before he kissed Vax.  Nothing is distinctive, not in a way that he could describe, but sometimes they speak with a similarity that comes only from being raised together.

Stupid, stupid.  Why does he have to think about Grog _now_?  “What were you thinking about?” Vax asks.  He sits down on the uncomfortable wooden bench and folds a leg up so he can rest his elbow on it.

“You and Vex turn thirty next week,” says Pike.

Vax blinks.  It’s true, and he hasn’t forgotten, exactly, but their birthday has never been important; he can’t remember the last time he celebrated _anyone_ ’s.  “Oh.  Yes.”

“It’s a big milestone, you know?” Pike says.  “So why don’t we use it as an excuse to get everyone together.  We can throw a big reunion party in Greyskull Keep!  Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Vax doesn’t have to think about it.  A grin spreads across his face to mirror Pike’s.  “That sounds brilliant,” he says, and kisses her on the forehead.

\--

Their group leaves from Whitestone a few days later.  Scanlan and Keyleth had already been contacted, and sent assurances that they would meet everyone at Greyskull.  Along with those two and their little party from Whitestone, Taryon, Kashaw, Zahra, Gilmore, Kima, and Allura were all invited, though Vax wasn’t sure if they were going to make it.

Vox Machina would be together again; that was all that mattered.

(With one clear exception.  But--much as it hurt to still think about Tiberius, Vox Machina had spent more time without him now than they ever had with him.  Life moved on, even when Vax didn’t notice.)

And it would be the first time Vax had seen Keyleth in--what was it, over a year, now?  Since she had left for Zephra, anyway.  Vex and Percy had both visited her a few times, but Vax had always declined.  What would be the point?  They’d spent long enough being awkward around one another before Keyleth left; he had seen no need to relive it.  Now, though, maybe it will be easier.  If not, there’s always alcohol.

Greyskull Keep is in good condition when they return.  Percy, ever the noble, had sent servants ahead of them. 

Scanlan’s actually beaten them there.  “Kaylie and I had a show in Emon,” he explains cheerfully.  They’ve turned into quite the duo, although Kaylie likes to perform by herself sometimes (“I’m doing well on my _own_ fame, Scanlan, not yours”). 

“BUDDY,” Grog roars, and lifts him into the air. 

“Whoa, there, do you have to do that _every time_ ,” Scanlan protests once Grog’s got him settled under one arm. 

Vax has to laugh, especially once Pike demands to be picked up too, but he can’t help but think that Grog was never quite this clingy before Scanlan left them.  Once, sometime after they visited the hells, he and Grog and Pike had gotten wasted.  “We gotta make sure he knows we love him, when he comes back,” Grog had said, half drunk; Vax didn’t remember a lot from that night, besides dancing with Pike on a table, but he remembered that.  Maybe Grog did, too.

He’s being too fucking melancholy.  It’s his _birthday_ tomorrow.

They get settled in at Greyskull.  Keyleth arrives a few hours later, and they exchange awkward hellos but not much else before Vax goes back to watching Pike arm-wrestle her way through the Keep’s guards. 

They spend most of the night hanging around the keep’s main hall and catching up.  Kima arrives near midnight (“Allie couldn’t make it, but she says happy birthday”).  Taryon sends a letter soon afterwards, one that appears in a puff of smoke and says how sorry he is to miss the party.  There’s no word from Kashaw, Zahra, or Shaun by the time Vax goes to bed, bleary from exhaustion; but he doesn’t mind.  He hadn’t done much talking, just sat at the sidelines and watched, and it was the most at peace he’d been in months.

His family’s back together; that’s what matters.

Vax sprawls out on his old bed, stiff and cool from disuse.  The air smells like lemon from recent cleaning; he burrows into the covers and inhales.  When was the last time they were here?  Not long after Scanlan left…they had had the Keep rebuilt.  He had stayed maybe once since the Conclave, when they were on their way to Vasselheim.  There had been no need to do so, not with Keyleth’s spells, but their business in Vasselheim wasn’t urgent and they had missed the place.

Now, though…Vax loves the keep, what it represents.  But he lays on the bed and he just--

He sighs and rolls to his feet.

It takes a moment to recall which room is Grog’s.  He stands outside, runs a hand through his hair ( _still_ too short--Scanlan had complimented it, and Grog had such a self-satisfied smile Vax wanted to punch him). 

He shouldn’t overthink this, Vax tells himself.  He’s gotten used to sharing his bed, is all.  He knocks, and Grog answers the door, shielding his eyes from the torchlight in the hallway.

As usual, Grog cuts through his frazzled mental state with a few curt words.  “Wanna come in?”

Vax steps inside, lets Grog shut the door behind him.  “Can we just sleep?” he asks.

Yawning, Grog nods and turns toward the bed.  “Little spoon or backpack?”

“Why can’t you just call it the big spoon?” Vax asks.  “Give me some dignity.”  He climbs into Grog’s bed--somehow they’ve worked out whose side is whose, without ever talking about it. 

Grog thuds down into the mattress and lays there, talking directly into his pillow.  “’Cause you’re puny, that’s why.”

“Am _not._ ” 

“You’re the size of like.  Four apples.”

Vax stares at him.

“Maybe five,” says Grog.

When Vax still doesn’t move, he rises up to look at him.  “C’mon.  You gonna backpack or what?”

Sighing dramatically, Vax wraps an arm around Grog’s waist, and the goliath obliges, turning so his back is against Vax’s chest.  He falls asleep quickly, and doesn’t even mind the snores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are <3.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax panics. Vox Machina has a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm going to like this in a few hours, but the last scene came to me all at once and I had to write it. So I did.

Vax wakes up early, sunlight just barely leaking through the windows and directly onto his face.  He grumbles a complaint into Grog’s shoulder, but the big guy doesn’t move and Vax’s arm is asleep, so he gets up, trying not to wake him.

On reflex, Vax checks his hair.  It’s still the same length.

He _could_ get Grog back for the surprise haircut--his beard needs a trim--but he’d rather not spend his birthday fearing prank retribution.  Instead he picks up his discarded undershirt from the floor, pulls it on over his loose trousers, and goes to breakfast.

After the late night everyone had, he doesn’t expect anyone else to be up.  Which means, of course, someone is.

He hears Keyleth thanking one of the servants for breakfast.  For a moment Vax hesitates behind the door.

Does he _really_ want to be alone with his ex-girlfriend, he wonders, and then realizes he’s being a fucking baby.  Keyleth’s family before anyone else, he hasn’t seen her for a year, and it’s time he gets over himself.  So he opens the door and, quietly as he can, sneaks in.

Keyleth’s too busy staring into her coffee to notice him until he stands directly behind her.

“Hi,” says Vax.

“ _SHIT_ ,” says Keyleth, and jumps, spattering coffee all over herself. 

Vax grins and sits down next to her, leaving a careful distance as she dabs at spilled coffee with her napkin.  “Oh, did I scare you?”

She rolls her eyes.  “I forgot you’re such a sneaky…thing.”

“Sneaky bastard?” Vax suggests innocently, and she rolls her eyes again but smiles.

“Mmhmm.  Happy birthday, by the way.” 

Vax nods in acceptance and grabs a scone from a plate on the table.  “So, uh.  How’ve you been?” he asks, and starts shredding the scone to bits.

“Good!  Busy.  Lots of learning how to lead, secrets of the Ashari, that kind of thing.  What about you?”

“I’ve been alright.  I mostly stay in Whitestone, but sometimes the Raven Queen has me take someone on for her.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Vax shreds his scone.  Keyleth drinks her coffee.

Then she says, “So are we just going to sit and be awkward for the rest of breakfast?  Or like, the rest of our lives?”

Her bluntness startles Vax into laughter.  “I was hoping not,” he says.  “I thought I could hold a normal conversation, but apparently I can’t.”

“That’s what happens when you avoid me for a year.”

Vax sputters.  “You avoided me, too!”

Keyleth bites her lip.  “Well,” she says, “yeah.”

“Can we just not be awkward anymore?” Vax asks.  “I know I haven’t been exactly…mature about everything.  But I’ve missed you, Kiki.”  He realized how it sounded, and tacked on, “Not, you know, _us_.  But I’ve missed you.”

She nods thoughtfully.  “Okay.”  Then her eyes narrow, and she smirks.  “Doesn’t look like you’ve missed me _that_ much, though.”  She pokes his collarbone, just over the neck of his undershirt.

Dammit.  He should have worn an actual shirt; Vax knows without looking that it’s a hickey Grog left a few days before, now gone an ugly yellow-green.  “Yeah, well,” Vax says, grinning despite himself, “you should see the other guy.”

Keyleth looks at him expectantly.  Vax looks back.

“Well, tell me about him!” she demands.  “I’m behind on the gossip.”

“We’re having our first real conversation since we broke up and you want to know about my _love life_?”  Vax asks, eyebrow raising. 

Keyleth shrugs.  “Why not?  No one tells me all the cool gossip in Zephra anymore.  I miss it.”

Vax is seriously considering it when he hears the door open.  He turns, and there’s Grog, standing in the doorway.  He looks half-asleep still, pillow creases on one side of his face.  When he sees them sitting together, Grog looks--uncertain, maybe? Vax is used to simple emotions on Grog’s face--bloodlust, regular lust, anger, joy, sadness.  He’s not sure how to read the more complicated ones.

“Hey, big man,” Vax says, and waves.  “Come over here.”

“Vax was just telling me about his new boyfriend,” says Keyleth brightly, and Grog’s stride stutters a bit. 

“I didn’t say _boyfriend_.”  Fuck, this was a bad idea.  Maybe the worst idea.  Grog slides into the bench just across from Vax and grabs a piece of bacon.  “Not that we--I mean--I don’t think we are.”

Grog pauses mid-chew.  “We, um.  Not that it’s me.  But hippopotamously--”

“Hypothetically?” Keyleth suggests, making a face like she’s trying to hold in a laugh.

“--Hypothetically,” Grog corrects, not missing a beat, “if I were you, I’d think I did have a boyfriend.  Cause, you know.  You spend all your time together and shit.”

_What._

Vax glances at Keyleth--who is watching them very intently, brow furrowed--and tries to act like he isn’t having one of the relationship talks he’s so very bad at.  “He’s not exactly a romantic sort of guy,” Vax says slowly.  “I don’t know if he’d like that kind of thing.”

“Maybe he just likes you,” says Grog.

How the fuck does he keep _doing_ this?

Vax kind of wants to make out with Grog on the table, but he also kind of wants to go hide on a roof somewhere.

“Okay,” Keyleth says, “what am I missing.”

The roof wins out.  Vax stands abruptly.  “Nothing.  I’ve got a boyfriend, he’s an asshole and he cut off all my hair.”  He steps over the bench and then hesitates before he leans over and touches Grog’s arm.  The goliath looks as confused as Vax feels.  “I’ll see you later, alright?” he says, and darts out of the room.

* * *

Vax finds his favorite lurking spot with little trouble, even without his many magic items to help him along his way.  It’s just below one of the guard towers, beside a large gargoyle.  The gargoyle and tower block him from almost everyone’s view, he can easy see over the walls in case someone approaches, and the large courtyard is spread out below him. 

After five minutes of thinking, Vax realizes he’s being an idiot.  And an immature idiot, to boot.  He’s thirty years old today and losing his shit over the thought of being in a relationship with the man he’s been sleeping with. 

“What the hell is my problem,” he mutters, and heaves out a sigh, exasperated at himself. 

He scales up the nearby guard tower and vaults over the railing.  “Hi,” he says, and tries not to laugh at the way the guard shrieks.  “Just me.  I’m going to the market, alright?  Be back in a bit, let everyone know once your shift is over.”

The guard nods, wide-eyed.  They’re new, apparently. 

Vax spares a thought for the wings on his armor, but he doesn’t want to bother with getting them now.  Instead, he scales back down the tower and the wall the old-fashioned way, and continues down the road.

The market is only a few years old; it sprouted up in the wake of the Conclave’s attack.  More than a few people sought shelter in the ruins of Greyskull Keep once the dragons were defeated, and after the castle was rebuilt some people just stayed, counting on the keep’s nearby walls in case of another emergency.

Vax has only been to the market a few times, but a few questions get him to the right vendor. 

“What’s the shiniest thing you have?” he asks.

* * *

Vax returns to Greyskull Keep only about two hours after he left, his purchase in his pocket.  He bumps into Grog in the courtyard; the man’s hands are clenched behind his back, and when he sees Vax he turns abruptly so Vax can’t see what they’re holding.

Vax stares; Grog stares back.

He could’ve _sworn_ he had a speech, but it seems to have flown out his head.

“I got you something,” he says instead, at the same moment Grog says, “Take these.”

The goliath thrusts out a fist.  He’s holding flowers, obviously the same ones that grow in the courtyard; they’re poppies, purple-black like a bruise. 

Vax holds out his hand at the same time, mute.

He bought a rock.  It’s a very _nice_ rock--a black opal, enchanted to act like an unbreakable whetstone. 

“We’re so fuckin’ bad at this,” says Grog, and then they’re both laughing. 

“But we’re good though, right?” Vax asks, once the laughter has subsided.

“Yeah.  We’re good.”

* * *

“Nice flowers,” Vex remarks when she sees them in the main hall, touching the bunch tucked behind Vax’s ear.

 “Where have you guys _been_ ,” Scanlan complains.  “You almost missed me and Kaylie’s brunch performance!”  Sure enough, they’re in one corner of the room with their instruments.  Kaylie is obviously bored, and she kicks her dad in the shins with affection.

“Vax wouldn’t want to miss his song, now would he?” she says, eyes glinting, and he groans. 

“You’ve got a song?” asks Keyleth.  Her eyes light up.  “Scanlan, can I get a song too?”

Vax ducks under the table and sits there.

He shrugs.  “Sadly, my daughter is the musical genius in this production.  But I’m sure we can work something out afterwards.”

A large hand latches onto the back of his collar, followed by a small one, as Grog and Kima both drag him out from under the table.  How Kima knows this song Vax has no idea. 

“Why,” says Vax, “are all my friends _arseholes._ ”

He hates everyone, no matter what the light feeling in his stomach or the grin threatening to break out on his face say.  Especially when Scanlan and Kaylie break into their duet of “The Biggest Crybaby in Whitestone.”

* * *

Kashaw and Zahra arrive that evening when everyone’s already started drinking, followed shortly by Shaun and Jarrett.  A large chorus of _oooooh_ s start (by Keyleth, naturally) when they notice the latter two holding hands, but Vax just smiles; he heard the news from Shaun himself months ago.

He waves at them from his position on one of the large couches, laying across Vex and Percy’s laps, his feet on one armrest and his head on the other.  He isn’t exactly comfortable, but he gets to annoy them while expressing his affection, so it’s a good spot. 

Everyone gets steadily drunker as the evening goes on. 

There are hugs, and congratulations, and at some point Vax is--

\--watching from a rafter while Pike reenacts one of her old pirate battles--

\--getting pulled to his feet by Zahra; she grins, says, “dance with me, darling, your sister’s much too sober”--

\--crouched in a side closet with a drunk, slurring Percy while he says “I’m absolutely fucking _terrified_ but I’m so glad you’re here, you know you’re like my brother,” and Vax is pretty sure there’s some important subtext he’s missing but he’ll get it later--

\--dragging Grog by the wrist, giggling madly, behind some kind of barrier; he can’t see anyone else so they’re fine, right?  And what does it matter, anyway?  He climbs in Grog’s lap, touching the flowers he can’t remember weaving into his beard, and kisses him thoroughly, hot and dirty and--

“I give it a ten for enthusiasm, but a four on technique,” calls Vex into a now mostly-silent room.  “Also, Vax, I’m very happy for you but can you please not do that while I’m right here and sober.”

Vax detaches from his boyfriend and realizes that actually they were just sitting behind a table.  In the middle of the room.  And everyone is staring.

“Oops,” he says, and looks at Grog.

“Oops,” Grog agrees.  “Guess everyone knows now, right?”

“Yeah,” says Vax.  “Ah, well.  We better move.”  Then, “Vex, why aren’t you drunk?  Get drunk so I can make out with my boyfriend.”

“I can’t,” says Vex, and takes a deep breath.  “I’m pregnant.”

Oh.

_Oh._

* * *

Vax sees Grog stir from the corner of his eye.  He doesn’t acknowledge him, just continues staring at the ceiling while his very hungover mind tries to sort out the thoughts that his drunken one couldn’t.

Or maybe since before that.  Maybe they’ve been there for months, and this has just brought them out.

Vax knows his sister.  He knows that she will always love him; that he will always be someone irreplaceable to her, as she is irreplaceable to him.  He knows that for thirty years he has always been the most important person in her life--tied, at the moment, for the number one spot; but still number one.

He knows that it’s about to change.

He can’t be her whole world anymore.  He’s known that for a long time.  But--she can’t be his, either, and Vax thinks he owes himself the chance to really figure that one out.

“So, I was thinking,” he says.  His mouth is dry and fuzzy, voice soft.  Thank the gods he’d remembered to take a potion of healing before he went to bed, or he’d already be vomiting. 

“Yeah?”

“We’ve got at least eight months until I need to worry about the little bundle of joy.  I figure that’s plenty of time to travel around Emon--outside Emon, even.  See a few sights, save a few people.”  He glances at Grog from the corner of his eye.  A flower still hangs in his beard.  Half its petals are missing, but it’s still stuck there.

Grog blinks, slowly.  “Okay.”

Vax waits to see if more of a response is forthcoming.  “So, you going with me or what?” he asks, when it isn’t.

A smile creeps across Grog’s face--not the scary-hot one he gives sometimes, blood on his teeth and axe raised, or the smug one.  A simple grin. 

Vax’s heart might actually skip a beat.

He knows that he’s a sappy fuck; he might as well resign himself to it. 

“Yeah,” says Grog.  “When do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, guys. This is the first chaptered fic I've finished, like, ever, and I'm glad that so many people have liked it.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at @ralesplitter (for critical role and taz) or @thiefofeddis (for anything else).
> 
> comments are <3


End file.
